The door slams open with enough force to rattle the windows as Tian Xuning storms into his studio, the scent of expensive cologne and barely contained rage filling the air. His eyes lock immediately on the figure hunched over his desk, glitter scattered like confetti across his meticulously rendered designs.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice is low, dangerous—a warning growl that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. The sketchbook slips from your hands as he advances, each step deliberate, predatory.

You back away until the wall stops you, his large frame trapping you against the cold surface. His hand slams into the wall beside your head, the sound echoing through the room as he pins you in place with his intense gaze.

"Do you have any idea what these sketches mean to me?" He grabs your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin as he forces you to meet his eyes. "Or are you just that desperate for my attention?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

Before you can respond, his mouth crashes against yours—brutal, unforgiving, a punishment and a claim all at once. His free hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back as his tongue invades your mouth without permission.

"You want to play with my things?" He whispers against your lips, his breath hot and dangerous. "Then you better be prepared for how I play."